A Little Sugarcoating
by Buttermilk and Cookie Butter
Summary: Their lives were miles apart; she was an artsy girl who brought about colors, and he was a brainiac who needed exactly what she was giving. Rated T for paranoia, but you can totally ignore that, because really, it's just a lighthearted rom-com.
1. Seeing, Speaking, Meeting

**Summary: _Their worlds were miles apart; she was an artsy girl who brought about colors, and he was brainiac that needed exactly what she was giving._**

**(please bear with us; I'm afraid Cookie Butter and I are ill)**

**AU where Vanellope is human/AU where Hiro gets a relapse/AU where he quits the hero stuff**

**VanellopexHiro (because we can)**

**Or Vaniro. Or Hanellope (but that sounds like Hannibal)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

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><p>It had been a fairly regular Tuesday in San Fransokyo, sunny weather, random small talk between strangers, slightly below average traffic, waking up to the scent of waffles and syrup and his aunt's all-too familiar call of; "<em>Hiro!<em>"

The twenty-year-old forces himself off his unmade bed, groaning.

_What time did he get home last night?_ He really doesn't remember.

_How much sleep did he get last night?_ He really doesn't care. Or care to remember. _Whatever._

The only things he remembers from the previous night were him trying to be as quiet as possible right after he closes the front door behind him, going up two (_or three_) flights of stairs, then collapsing on his bed as soon as he gets to his room, not even changing out of his clothes.

A knock on a wall snapped him out of his thoughts, and he realizes that he's been staring at his slightly littered bedroom floor for might have seemed like a disturbingly long time.

"_What time did you get home last night?_"

Even though his aunt's voice sounded playful, his first panicky thought was; _Crap, I'm in for a scolding._

He looks up, and he sees the familiar head of strawberry blonde hair.

"Uh...Aunt Cass, I don't think I..."

"Remember?" She said, finishing his sentence for him. "Honey, we really need to get you a watch."

He rubbed the sleep out of his tired eyes, groaning. "I know, I just..." he said, face buried in his palms. "There's just...lots of work, and...other...things."

She climbs up the rests of the steps, hands on her hips, lips pursed. "Sweetie, you really need a break."

"Aunt Cass, I need a lot of things, but I _don't _need a break."

"Then what do you want me to say? _"You need sleep"_? Because it never works." Said Cass. "And I know that if I say something even _vaguely_ similar to; _"Take it easy with your robotics work"_, it wouldn't work, either. So obviously the next best thing to say is; _"Take a break,"_."

"No, really, Aunt Cass, I'm fine." He said.

"_Really_?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because the last time I heard _that_ from _you_, I receive a call telling me that you're in the hospital because of fatigue, sleep deprivation, stress and _too much instant ramen_. Ring any bells, Hiro?" **(1)**_  
><em>

"That was...that was one time." Hiro gulped. "And really, I'm fine."

"Yeah, you're fine. And I wasn't there '_that one time_'."

"_Baymax_ was there."

"Which brings me to point number two; Baymax isn't there anymore every time you're up all night killing yourself with exhaustion." She said. "_Double-worry_."_  
><em>

"Then activate him."

"Don't sass me. I don't know where his red-case battery thing is. And I know you hid it! It's been five months since I last saw him." She said, pointing to him to him accusingly.

She sighed, then sat down on the bed next to him. "Look, I know you're twenty years old, you have this whole newfound independence-and I respect that, totally. I was like that, too." She said. "There's this air of maturity and you like having lots to work with...but _please, _and I say this from the bottom of my heart; _please_ don't tire yourself out and _please_ don't over work yourself and _please_ take care of yourself. Okay?"

He nods. "Okay."

"That's a promise?"

"Yes."

"No cheating?"

"_Yes._"

"You're sure?"

"_Aunt Cass._"

"Alright, sorry, totally not smothering you." She said, raising her hands defensively. "I'm glad we're communicating like civilized adults about these kinds of things."

He gave her a lopsided grin, and she smiled back, kissing his cheek.

"Now get up; you have waffles for breakfast." She said, standing up from the bed and fixing her red cardigan.

Cass winked at her nephew, then exited the room. Hiro groaned, burying his face in his palms again, shoulders slumped. _There was still so much to be done._

He took a shower and changed into a new set of clothes in record time, then grabbed his messenger bag which, luckily, he had managed to put on his swivel chair despite how incredibly tired he was; the bag had his laptop and other important things in it.

He's full after three syrup-drenched waffles and a cup of coffee, immediately kissing his aunt goodbye and goes to put his shoes on, making a mad dash out the door.

It was quite a trip to the university from his home, which was the two floors above his aunt's cafe, and he remembers a handful of other instances where he needed to skip breakfast to make it on time.

To him, everything felt almost surreal from the mediocrity; waking up to a normal morning, with a simple breakfast and all that jazz and no large, balloon robot to greet him, then going out to work, an earphone in his left right ear blasting music from the phone in his right pocket, his messenger bag over his left shoulder, the strap across his torso to his right him, holding it with his free hand protectively.

Was he ever troubled by the normalcy?

_Yes_, he would probably say. _The answer to that question is yes_.

He kind of misses the oddness from the prior years, minus the fire, more of Baymax, all the other things. He didn't know why he had wanted _normal_ back when he was, what, twelve? Eleven?

He doesn't care. He was a _freaking genius_, he went to college at _fourteen_.

Don't get him wrong; surrounded with technology and robotics all day long? He's living his dream.

But sometimes, he can't help but feel like he's been caught in a rut.

Stuck; smack-dab in the middle of it all.

It gets..._dreary_.

..._well_.

Alright, so dreary was an understatement.

Especially when he's _literally_ just three sequences away to make a new program (_or something; he works on a lot of things_) and he just suddenly bursts into tears while no one else is around in the lab and it's one in the morning, and it takes him a moment to form a coherent thought only to realize he's breaking down about Tadashi.

He successfully rebuilt Baymax after the whole '_wormhole-to-trippy-cloud-universe-slash-incomprehensible-pocket-dimension-outside-space-time_' fiasco when he was fourteen. It took a lot of work, but he was able to do it.

And the somehow, it all just...came back.

It happened so fast, maybe even right in front of him, but he missed it. A snap, a blink, a flash that just suddenly put him back in the exact same way he was after..._that_ incident.

He shut Baymax down and hid his station in somewhere his aunt will never find him (_again, reminding himself of the awkward incident when he was seventeen and had to explain_ everything) all because the big, cuddly robot carried too much reminders that sent him reeling straight into a relapse.

It's one of the many things Aunt Cass doesn't know, added to the long list of things he never tells her, even though he knows that he needed to. That he should.

It's been six years. He _knows_ it's been six years. And he knows he should be _over it_.

Does he want an escape from the same, dismal sequence?

_Yes_, he would probably say. _Yes, but what choice do I have?_

He stops at the familiar pedestrian lane, where five or six other people were waiting.

Fishing his phone out of his pocket, he looks to check the time.

_7:41, _he thinks, shrugging. _I can make it on time_.

Hiro looks back up, and he catches something colorful at the corner of his eye.

A girl stood across the street, waiting at the same pedestrian lane. She had an array of chromatic hair pins to tame her wild tresses, while a bright pink elastic held her raven hair in a high ponytail. Strands of faded, dark, blueberry-colored dye were still prominent, and a bright blue hair clip with a circular ornament that resembled a peppermint candy swept her fringe to one side.

The sun's rays reflected off her metallic hair accessories, and she looked like she was actually elucidating rainbow's colors like a human prism.

Her tiny fingers tapped away at her kaleidoscopic cellphone, and after a good bout of texting, she huffed, blowing away a strand of hair that was in her eyes. She stuffed her cellphone back in her pocket and hoisted her blue bag up her shoulder.

Hiro saw her look up, and for a brief moment, he swore, it was almost as if she was looking directly at him.

He doubted it for a moment, until her lips broke into a grin and she flashed him a bright smile.

Hiro didn't know what to do; wave, smile back, nod, acknowledge her in any way, or act like he didn't see her at all. But really, all he could really do was...was _look_.

The light turned green, and he snapped back into reality.

He crossed with the others who waited, and she did, too. And by the middle of it all he lost sight of her, disappearing in the crown like a light going out.

And suddenly, to him, the sun didn't seem so bright as it used to.

* * *

><p><em>She reminded him of candy, sort of.<em>

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><p>Weekends were the only days that kept him alive; enough sleep, enough time to actually stop and think about what he was about to consume because; don't get him wrong, he knows how to make something other than instant noodles. But they were just really freaking convenient, and it was either endure the hunger or go all out to test his limits as a human with extreme sodium consumption.<p>

Well, he was taught never to skip meals, so, option B it is!

Yeah, anyway, weekends were the days he was allowed to sleep in or stay in bed until five in the afternoon like a nocturnal creature of the night, very much like how one of the girls at the university described her supposedly vampiric roommate.**(2)**

Hiro almost forgets what he was doing, going to a store of art supplies at nine AM in the morning (_on a Saturday, if he may so kindly add_) until he remembers his aunt's list in his right hand, where two of the things listed on it were a set of poster colors and a paintbrush.

He sighs, telling himself that _It'll all be over soon. The faster you get this done, the faster you'll be back to recharging your batteries._

He pushes his hood back as he enters, going straight to a section that vaguely looked like where they would keep the paint.

He inspects the rows carefully, trying to look for something that matched what his aunt requested of him while zipping his hoodie up, because _damn_, it was cold. After some time which almost made the task impossible, he finally finds a set of poster colors (_because that's what it said on the list; a _set_. Not _one). He takes a box from the shelf, shoving his left hand in the pocket of his jeans.

He shivers at the cold of the air conditioning, because his hoodie might have been too thin and the AC probably needed fixing, and he tells himself to bear with it as he scans a shelf of paint brushes on another aisle, varying from thick to narrow ones.

He was confused with those particular items on the list, which he decided was something he didn't want to delve into because his aunt had her reasons, and he had his secrets.

He's been staring at the same paintbrush over and over for _who-knew-how-long_, and he only realizes it when he's pulled back into the real world by a high-pitched, "_Excuse me?_"

Hiro blinks, once, twice, and turns to his left where a girl stood.

She was a whole head shorter than him, holding a basket full of charcoal pencils and acrylics and several other things he couldn't identify. Her black hair looked almost forced in a bun that was slowly falling apart, with the same peppermint hair clip holding her fringe.

"Uh...Yes?"

"Could you please hand me one of those paintbrushes up there?" She said, pointing to the row he'd been gazing at with a box-like container full of paintbrushes. "I can't reach."

"Oh...sure." He said, taking a random one from the bunch and handing it to her.

He felt his cheeks go warm as he realizes that it was the first time he gets and actual look at her face, with his attention not on her chromic candy-decorated hair or peppermint hair clip and instead on her _face_.

She had a heart-shaped face, with flushed rosy cheeks and big doe eyes and a smallish nose. Her eye color was something of the stranger sort; like a cross of honey and gold and amber, he couldn't exactly say.

She couldn't be any older than him, most probably a high schooler, with her short stature and demure figure.

(_Though she could always look younger than she really is; that was always a possibility._)

_She was cute_, he thought.

In a completely general, _none-of-romantic-interest_ kind of way.

Although that works too.

"Thank you," she said, and she flashed him another smile.

Hiro felt something stop for a moment, and _there goes that feeling_.

A bubbling warmth settled inside him, a bit confusing, but...it was...

It was..._it was_...

She turns and walks, basket in tow, and before he could catch what was happening, she took a left turn at the end of the aisle, and then she was gone, like she had just vanished into thin air before him.

She disappeared to fast, like if he blinked, he would have missed it.

Well, that was him, at least.

He suddenly remembers that he's been standing in front of the rows of paintbrushes and why he's standing there in the first place moments right after she's gone. He groans, feeling the familiar ache of weariness on his shoulders. He was one item left, and after this he would get to go home.

_Finally_.

He settles for a similar paintbrush he handed the girl from earlier (because it wasn't specified what kind of paintbrush his aunt wanted). His shoulders slumped, like a new weight had been added to his load, and walked lazily to the cashier to pay.

And the air didn't seem so cold anymore.

* * *

><p><em>He didn't know what to make of that feeling.<em>

* * *

><p>On the following week, on another Saturday, a new painting hung on the wall of the Lucky Cat Cafe.<p>

He decided to get up early this morning, and by '_get up_' he meant to actually get out of bed, walking and everything, and _not_ wake up then stay in the same space until noon.

He went down to the cafe, because he was full after a piece of toast and wanted to check on his aunt, whom he found fixing the inventory. He decided not to bother her, and catches something at the corner of his eye, hanging in the cream white wall.

Feeling a sense of deja vu, he looks over to it, finding a painting that he wasn't quite familiar with.

It vaguely resembled a Van Gogh, with swirls and all that jazz. It looked new, like it had been just recently painted. The picture looked surprisingly happy to be an image of an almost-haunting willow tree, set in a valley of yellow flowers and clear blue skies.

"Hey, Aunt Cass," He called over to his aunt. "Where did this come from?"

"What?" She asked, looking from behind the counter.

"This painting." Hiro pointed to the painting, and Cass only smiled.

"Oh, that," She said, going back to arrange the glassware on the cupboards. "Someone painted it. A sweet little girl that wanted to work here. I told you about that, right? She wanted to do some work around here, and I let her. She gave me that painting in gratitude. Her name was...Vanellope, I think? Yeah, Vanellope, she painted it."

"_Vanellope_?" Said Hiro. It was an odd name, rolling off his tongue like a newfound word. "Her name sounds kind of...I dunno, _foreign_. Just saying."

"Now that you mention that...She did kind look like it." Said Cass. "But it didn't sound she had an accent of any kind. Or did she?...I don't know. It's actually kind of cute that she wants to work in a cafe, little foreign girl, probably around your age but doesn't look it because she's small for her age, you know?"

"Huh...that's interesting." He said. "Well, good for you. It's good that someone's going to help you around here. When does..._Vanellope_ start?"

Her name was definitely hard to get over, and it was fun to say, making out the syllables like it was an entirely different language. _Vanellope_.

"Today," said Cass. "She'll work the weekends, she said. She'd be here by eight."

Hiro stole a glance at the wall clock. _7:51_. She was going to be here soon. "I think she'll be here momentarily." He said. "I'll help in the meantime. Er...is there anything that you need help with?"

"Yeah, but it's just the boxes I need moved in the back. You could do that." She said, smiling. "You could be my helper before Vanellope gets here."

"Yeah, okay," He says, joining his aunt behind the counter. Taking two boxes in his arms, one of which were surprisingly light, he proceeds to carry it over to the back area.

Despite his somewhat tall and rangy appearance, Hiro was actually quite strong. He had done this a few times before for his aunt; moving the heavier things. He had also carried his fair share of moderately laborious-weighing materials in the Nerd lab, most of which were metals.

After setting the two boxes down on the floor, he turned to continue with the other boxes up front, until he passed and oval mirror, one that his aunt had kept in the room, which made him stop in his tracks.

Hiro stared at the boy in the glass, who stared back at him with a similar expression. He ran his hand through his messy mop of dark hair, and the boy looking at him did the same.

After the denial that always came naturally whenever he looked in the mirror, he finally complies; the boy in the glass bore a painful resemblance to his brother.

They had their differences; differences and similarities that still stung him, that still made it excruciating to look in a mirror. Despite Hiro being the slimmer of the two, he could pass as broad-shouldered, like Tadashi. They had the same eyes, the same nose, the same _face_, and after came the million differences that kept him from breaking down again.

He didn't know which was more painful; that he looked a little too much like Tadashi, or the fact that Hiro could never bear even just a little more resemblance to his brother.

He wipes his tears before they escape his eyes.

_No time for melodrama now_.

He always had these sudden relapses at the most unexpected moments. And whenever he had them, the more unexpected it came, the worse it was.

Oh, god, here comes the aftermath of feelings of dread and despair that came every time it happened...

_And...oh, there goes that feeling._

He feels a feeling in the pit of his stomach, his shoulders slouching from an imaginary weight, and the familiar heavy feeling in his chest that he forces inside him, that always tried to escape in tired, broken sobs.

His hands are balled into fists, fingers digging into his palm, unknowingly gripping so tight his hands shook.

He's spacing out, but he doesn't realize it until he hears the bell ring the same way it did every time someone came in the cafe, and it takes him out of his swimming thoughts.

"_Good morning, Miss Cass!_" Chirped a new, cheerful, feminine voice from afar. "Am I late? I hope I didn't keep you waiting, or anything..."

Funny, the voice almost sounded...vaguely _familiar_...

"Good morning, Vanellope." Greeted Cass. "And it's fine, you're perfectly early. My nephew's actually in the back right now-_Hiro_! Are you done? Come on out here and meet Vanellope!"

"_Coming_!" He replied, and he cringed at the sound of his own voice, hoping that the shaky, tired-sounding tone to it wasn't very obvious.

He smooths over his hoodie, giving himself a reassuring look, and walked to the doorway that separated the front area from the back room.

Hiro groans inwardly when he's greeted by a familiar black ponytail, a peppermint hair clip, and big honey eyes.

Her hairpins, looking more like technicolor metal candy sprinkles rather than actual hair accessories, were arranged differently from the last time, sweeping half of her bangs back and the other half swept to the side.

The girl's eyes widen; her face suddenly wearing an expression of remembrance which can be easily read as; '_Oh, hey, it's you!_'

"Oh, hi!" She said. "It's...um...It's a small world."

Hiro ducked his head, blushing. "Yeah...it is."

Cass raised an eyebrow. "Do you two know each other?"

Before she could reply, Hiro cut in for her. "Well, not _know_, like really know, but...I guess we've seen each other around several times...Like...like last Saturday."

"What happened last Saturday?"

"We just ran into each other in a store for art supplies." She said before he could. "I was just asking to reach for a paintbrush, nothing much. I'm...very small for my age. I look sixteen but I'm actually nineteen. Boom, shocker."

She was rambling, and he wasn't sure it she would realize it, until she clamped her lips shut and muttered an apology. "Sorry, I'm maundering."

Cass smiled. "It's fine, I'm like that sometimes."

"So, um, okay, Miss Cass, and you are," She turned to Hiro. "_Hi-ro?_"

"Yeah," He said, holding out his hand. "That's me, Hiro Hamada. And you're..._Vanellope_?"

She beamed, taking his hand and shaking it, and he wasn't used to someone brightening up so easily so quick. "Yep," she said, popping the 'p'. "That's me, _foreign-girl-exotic-name_ and all that jazz. So, um..._hallo, ich heisse_ Vanellope Von Schweetz."**(3)**

Hiro blinked. "What?"

"It's German. Hey, I'm Vanellope Von Schweetz." She said. "That's my name."

Cass gestured the two to follow in the back, and in the process Hiro lifted a box from the floor and followed behind his aunt and Vanellope.

"_Vanellope Von Schweetz_." He repeats. "That's a rather...fascinating name."

She turned to him as they walked. "I'd say I didn't choose the name, but that would be a lie. Von Schweetz is my mum's maiden name. I just use it because...well, it's kind of a good name, admittedly. Any official documents have Vanellope _Karnstein _on them instead, but it sounds so serious, like...my older brother's names. _Ralph Karnstein_ or _Felix Karnstein_, or soon-to-be_ Tamora_ _Karnstein_**(4)**. No offence to my dad or anything.

"But my dad is perfectly aware of the name that sounds like a mix of vanilla and Penelope that he gave his daughter. Like a mascot for candy. _Vanellope_. So he's cool with the whole '_Von Schweetz_' deal because it sounds better."

Her smile lapsed into an unreadable expression, then she covered her mouth. "Sorry, I'm slipping into chatterbox mode." She said, her voice muffled under her palm. "I'm probably boring you to death, aren't I?"

"No, no, it's alright." Said Hiro. "It's actually really entertaining, stories you tell and all. And, don't worry, Aunt Cass really is like that sometimes."

"Huh...really..." She said. "So...erm, what's it like, having Miss Cass as a guardian?"

He thought for a moment. _What _was_ his aunt like as a guardian?_

"Overprotective, liberal, exciting, and paranoid at the same time." He said. And while he wasn't trying to be humorous, she had laughed, anyway.

She had a lovely laugh, clear and smooth and not quite high-pitched, but not deep, either, which sort of reminded Hiro a bit of the sound a clarinet would make.

Hiro knew that for someone like him, it would take some getting used to the way Vanellope Von Schweetz (Karnstein_, whatever_) is, jovial and multicolored and maybe, even, the happiest person he's ever met.

Not that it bothered him, anyway.

Hiro smiled, and before he noticed, he started laughing along with her. It felt so strange to laugh, especially right after a sudden relapse, but it felt right to because, in a way, Vanellope's joy was contagious.

"You two are getting along well," Says Cass, interrupting the two. "It's such a tender moment; you two are so cute! It's like you're both eight year olds interacting on the first day of second grade!"

He doesn't know what to say to that, and suddenly he feels the rare, odd urge to crack a joke, just to make Vanellope laugh again. Because he suddenly decided that, to him, she was a motley of rainbow-colored, sweet, infectious happiness that had a pleasant allure.

Hiro turned to Vanellope. "Yeah...it's also helped me deal with gushing." He said. "Since I have this constantly pop up in my life."

Vanellope tried her best to suppress a snicker, but ended up have a few giggles bubble from between her lips. Hiro only smiled as Cass rolled her eyes, he setting the box he was holding down on the floor, and her rummaging through a drawer.

"Here; an apron." Said Cass. "It's one of my old ones."

Vanellope took the apron from Cass and put it on, tying the strings around her waist. "Alright, I'm ready for helping and such." She said. "What do I do first?"

"For the moment; no." Said Cass. "Well, actually, I was going to suggest running the chore with the boxes, but Hiro has that covered..."

"Oh, well, I'll help with that, then." Said Vanellope. "It's always to get things done faster and earlier. I...kind of learned that the hard way when I crammed my Lit paper. And my Art project in high school. But, hey, it still won me a blue ribbon from the contest."

After that, she shut her lips tight, but this time she didn't apologize. Her cheeks had turned red; a deeper red that her naturally rosy cheeks. She was avoiding eye contact, looking anywhere but at him; she was embarrassed, and this was the third time she had cut herself off from her admittedly adorable ramblings.

A thick, awkward silence hung in the air, and the situation had become so unbearable it was pitiful; until Hiro cut through the silence and saved the two of them from it.

"So," He said. "You're...you're an artist."

"Yeah. Why, do I look it?" She said, brightening up when he asks her, and her eyes are big and bright and she's wearing another ear-splitting grin. _He can never tell when these things happen_. "Or did your aunt tell you about the painting?"

Even though Cass had told him there wasn't a trace of an accent, he knows that his aunt might not have not noticed that Vanellope said some words differently; like '_aunt_' and '_mom_' and '_candy_'.**(5)**

"Aunt Cass told me about the painting. And I think you just mentioned an art project and a contest? Yeah."

"I don't know if that's good deduction skills, or I'm just really blatant." She said. "Where are the boxes that need moving?"

"They're at the counter." He said, turning to the doorway. "I'll show you. I don't know how much boxes are left, but I know I've moved, like, three of them already. Come on."

Hiro felt fuzzy and tingly, and lightheaded, too, with a mellow warmth that started in his toes, reaching all the way until his neck and ears and cheeks. It was a good kind of warm; he was..._happy_.

But something still felt wrong. It still felt...off.

The feeling was back.

He tried to disregard it, a wrenching feeling in the pit of his stomach, a sinking, heavy, pushing feeling that he couldn't explain; that all he knew was familiar, that all her knew was part of the relapse.

It tore through the warmth, and everything inside him turned cold and melancholic again.

Before he took another step, he froze when she said; "_Wait._"

He looked over his shoulder to her, and her small hand was grasping his blue sleeve. "Yeah, what is it?"

Vanellope pursed her lips, eyes cast down, then looks up at him again, this time her eyes are laced with concern. "I know it probably isn't my business...but," she said. "Are you...are you _okay_?"

His eyebrows furrow, and he knew she understood what he meant.

"It's just...it's just that...for a moment there, you didn't...you didn't _look_ okay..." She said. "From when your aunt told you to come out and meet me...the entire time, you didn't seem...a-and I just...I just _thought_...that something was wrong..."

It throws him off that she's the first to notice, a strange newcomer he'd only known for less than an hour, talked to twice, seen three times.

And you know what?

He wants to reply, with a genuine answer. He wants to tell her everything, though he isn't quite sure why.

But he doesn't.

There's only silence.

_No_; there is only nothing.

Vanellope shakes her head, and she slowly lets go of his sleeve, almost reluctantly. "I'm...I'm sorry," she said. "That was...um...That was completely uncalled for. I'll just, um...yeah, let's just...let's go get those boxes."

She smiles at him again, but it was a nervous one this time, a smile which he could tell was a fake from her usually bright ones.

"Yeah...let's get to work, then." He said.

* * *

><p><em>He didn't think she'd be part of him pretty soon.<em>

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><p><strong>(1) This is reference to the fanfiction "In The Hospital" by user Tohdoh.<strong>

**(2) This is reference to the Carmilla Series on Youtube, which is a modern adaptation of the gothic vampire novella by J. Sheridan Le Fanu, Carmilla.**

**(3) Is it wrong that we made her German?**

**(4) She is talking about Tamora Calhoun being Felix's fiance.**

**(5) Vanellope pronounces:**

_**'aunt' as 'awnt', and not as 'ant'**_

_**'mom' as 'mum', and not as 'mom'**_

_**'candy' as 'kahn-dy', and not as 'can-dy'**_

_**And while we're at it, she doesn't say 'sidewalks', she says 'pavements'. And she doesn't say 'cotton candy', she says 'candy floss'.**_

**Yaaaay!**

**We got into this ship for a while, but no one has raised a fanfic about these two adorable characters!**

**Now, a number of unspecified things to add to the reasons to leave this fic:**

**1) It is never specified what Hiro's work is**

**2) The name of the school Vanellope attends is never specified (Unless one of us make ****one ****up in the next chapter or so)**

**3) It is never specified why Hiro gets these relapses**

**4) It does not say whether or not the rest of the gang will be appearing soon**

**So, good? Bad? Give us some prompt suggestions and we'll write something fluffy**

**(Because the only heavy stuff dealt with in this purely fluffy fanfic are Hiro's relapses and Vanellope's bullying history.)**

**Leave a review!**

**It's us, Buttermilk and Cookie Butter!**


	2. Progress on Saturday

**Summary: _Their lives were miles apart; she was an artsy girl who brought about colors, and he was a brainiac that needed exactly what she was giving._**

**Yeah...here we are again.**

**We never though it'd get this much love. Thanks, guys, you're amazing. All of you.**

**We didn't a lot of people would like it, because some other peers in the fandom disagree with our ship, which is fine, because our friends have our back on this.**

**So...erm...here. It's shorter than the first chapter, but we hope you like it!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

* * *

><p>Today; Saturday.<p>

He's waiting for his aunt to come back, sitting at a table close to the counter, forced out of bed before nine AM on another weekend morning (_he's been waking up early lately_). The cafe is empty; it was closed, after all, and he was told to stay down here until Vanellope came.

He waits, staring at nothing in particular, and he can't help but think.

It's been a week, and nothing has happened.

(_Or was it just him, because he hasn't had a single relapse the entire week?_)

No, actually, he felt the opposite of that.

He felt like too much was happening at once, even if they were just little acknowledgements; stolen glances and random eye contact and little muttered '_hello_'s and tiny smiles in their direction.

Other times, they didn't even notice each other's presence. She was too busy doing whatever it was she was doing, and he had other places to be.

Yes, even though she only worked the weekends, she still hung around the cafe when she could, working with other people. Whenever he chanced upon her alone, however, he walked over to her and asked what she was working on.

She doesn't ignore him and answers his question, but not in the annoyed tone a busy person always had, the kind that someone used which screamed volumes of '_I don't want to be bothered, so go away_', because, clearly, he broke her focus.

Instead, she looks up at him with a smile (like always) and intones nicely what she was up to. "_Just drawing hippos doing people things_,"**(1)** or "_Just finishing my painting of the city_," were what he remembered she said to him before.

The door suddenly burst open, and his thought bubble pops.

It was Vanellope, with earphones plugged in her ears as she walks inside the cafe with speed that could count as running.

She was lucky no one else was here, because, surely, she would have bothered other patrons.

(_Not Aunt Cass, though; Aunt Cass loved Vanellope_)

She isn't looking where she's going, and what happened next was almost a blur. He could only process toppling over and falling on him.

No; more like crashing.

He felt her weight on him, which, unsurprisingly, wasn't very much, considering how tiny she was, but the force was enough to knock him off the chair he temporarily claimed, tumbling on the floor with a blunt thud.

"_Ow!_"

"Oh...!" She yelped, immediately gathering her bearings as she got up to help him up. One of her earphones have come off, and he can hear the pop punk**(2)** in full blast at even a distance.

_Her, too, huh?_**(3)**

"I'm sorry!"

He realizes that he's in his mindscape again, and he shakes his head. "No, it's fine." He said. "I'm fine."

"Yeah, okay." She said. "Sorry about suddenly popping up in here...and stuff..."

"Oh; that's okay." He replied, scratching the back of his neck. "It's, uh...think of the devil, actually..."

She was quiet for a second, and the corner of her lips suddenly quirked up in a slight, awkward smile. "You were thinking...about _me_?" She said.

"Of sorts," He said. "But usually, they don't hit hard like meteors."

She blushed, cheeks beet red. "Uh...that's-that's..."

Hiro nudged her gently. "Hey, lighten up, I was only teasing."

"I am, still, so sorry," She apologized again. "That was...erm...that was just so stupid; and clumsy, of me. I'm just...wow. I'm so embarrassed. Incredibly. I think that's even an understatement."

"Yeah, again, it's cool." He assured. "Why were you running?"

Vanellope's smile fell for a moment, and she was obviously caught off guard with his question.

All of a sudden, she brightened up, and, still, he wasn't used to it, but this time she had a mad glint in her eyes. "Because," she said. "It gets me to places faster."**(4)**

"You're, uh," He said. "You're kind of a speed demon, aren't you?"

"...Yep." She said, popping the 'p'. "Kind of makes me a dangerous driver, if you think about it. So it's either you love it or leave it."

"Don't want to leave it," He said. "Kind of hard to love it, too, but I'll take my chances."

She laughed at his attempted joke, which left him relieved, because he knew he really wasn't that funny a person, and now here he was, trying to make someone laugh.

Vanellope was different; new, perhaps, but in a good way (_great, even_); and he saw that. Smiles and sass and colors and sweets, and fast-paced things, too. But it didn't bother him how different they are; he doesn't mind that she couldn't understand what he talked about, and vice versa.

She fascinated him, and he liked that they were different; opposites, even, because if she were too much like him, he was afraid he'd get bored of her.

He doesn't want to get bored of her.

Was it wrong, making her seem like she were a new discovery?

_Yes, probably._

And that he was being selfish about it?

_Oh, definitely._

But could you really blame him?

_Well, yeah. Yes._

He was tired; fatigued with the usual thing. The commonness, the regularity, the normalcy; whatever, it was tedious. He wanted a rest; a break from his usual, science-intellect environment.

(_But don't tell Aunt Cass that; he'll never hear the end of her smugness_)

Vanellope-she beams and grins, and you'd think a little too much, but too him, probably not. She smiled like it cost nothing; like her supply never ran out. (_She probably didn't even have a supply; maybe it's just a limitless thing to her._)

Smiles from her were like waking up to a sunny morning or newly baked cookies, and she smiled at anyone who crossed her path, like it was the most generous thing she could offer.**(5)**

She acted like it wasn't that big a deal, but he knows she had no idea what it did to him.

*His pulse is rushing.

His head is reeling.

His face is flushing.

(_And there's butterflies, too, though he'd rather not mention that_)

What is this feeling?

"_Fervid as a flame_," he heard a soft voice sing. "_Does it have a name? Yes...Loathing! Unadulterated loathing!_"* **(*6)****  
><strong>

_No, he's pretty sure what he's feeling is the complete opposite of that._

He snapped out of his thoughts. "Oh, sorry, what was that?"

"It's that song." She only said. "What is this Feeling, from Wicked. I just felt like singing it for some reason. It's like someone was thinking about how I made them feel."

"Huh..." He said simply. "That's..."

"Weird?" She said, cutting him off. "It's fine; you don't have to say it. I know how awkward it is to call someone weird to their face. Where's your aunt?"

"Oh, uh...she's out." He said. "She told me to tell you that."

"Okay," She says, nodding, her ponytail bouncing along with the bobbing of her head. As she passed by him, he notices something new.

"What's with your hair?" He suddenly asked.

She stopped dead in her tracks. "What?" She asked, alarmed. "Do I look like something died on my head?"

"No; it's..._pink_." He said. "The dye was blue the last time."

"Oh, yeah, uh, well...that's gone." She said, running her fingers over the on particular spot on her hair. "Um...originally, I actually bought the wrong color, but I just say that I change it whenever I feel like it. Because, really, how do you mistake _pink_ for _blue_? Ugh, stupid me. Does it...look fine?"

"It's different...a good different, I mean."

"Really?" She asked. "I've done orange before; that was a disaster."

"It looks _fine_."

He smiles, and doesn't say any more after that.

"If you say so," She agreed, but still with a fair amount of uncertainty. She smiles at him, and goes behind the counter without another word.

The two of them had familiarity; a sort of sufficient friendliness to crack jokes and puns and quips at each other, but they weren't friends. He wasn't sure if she did, but he didn't consider them friends; as much as she piqued his interest, and as much as he wanted to, he didn't consider them friends.

They still didn't know much about each other.

Hiro felt like this week had been a whole lot more than it was originally supposed to be; even though seven days (_even a few before that_) didn't seem like much; because it _wasn't_. It _wasn't_ that much.

He knew some things about Vanellope Von Schweetz; he knew that she was a sassy artist with a need for speed (_like a certain someone he knew_)**(7)**, who drew purple hippos in yellow tutus and pocketed candy wherever she went and forgets where she put the green marker and doesn't realize that it's tucked behind her ear or used to hold her hair together until someone told her so._  
><em>

But he just didn't know her _enough_.

Another awkward silence hung in the air as they left each other to their devices; because, really, they didn't know how they were going to keep the conversation alive; waiting for Cass to come and carry the rest of the day on.

* * *

><p>The day goes by without a hitch for him.<p>

(_Probably because he slept most of it, but that's besides the point._)_  
><em>

Can't say the same about Vanellope, though.

The day is finally over, he steals a glance in her direction as he descend the stairs. Her shoulders slump, and she stretches her arms, upwards, side wards, and her stretching reminds him of a cat. Or a kitten, she was definitely more a kitten than a cat.

A little, fluffy orphaned kitten.

"Where's Aunt Cass?"

She jumped, turning to face him. "She's, um, she's in the back."

He approached her. "Tired?"

"Erm, yeah, uh..." She said, rubbing her eyes. "There's too much to do after this. I mean, _this_ really isn't any trouble for me, but everything else...the art show, and the Midsummer Night's Dream film version project I promised to help with..."

"Not used to a lot of work?"

"I am, but...I don't, like, I _don't_ force myself on it to the point that I get hospitalized. I mean, does it even get that bad?" She asked. "I take breaks when I need to. But recently, breaks have become...a sort of luxury that I couldn't afford, I guess."

"You...you have a lot on your plate, huh, Schweetz?" Said Hiro.

(_They called each other by last name; so what?_)

"Not as much as you." Vanellope retorted. She turned from him, standing on her toes as she reached up for her bag on a high shelf, and turned around again as she laid it on top of the counter. "I mean, seriously, dude, how much sleep do you get?"

Before he could answer, she cut him off. "No; wait, don't answer that. The real question is; do you even sleep?" She asked.

"Was it obvious?" He asked.

She pointed below her her right eye. "You have so much eye bags, you could just lather makeup over your face all wrong and be a zombie." She said. "Workaholic much?"

He touched below his eye. _They were that bad?_ "Uh...that's..."

She playfully nudged his shoulder. "Hey, come on; lighten up, Hamada, I was only kidding." She said, smiling, mimicking his statement from earlier that day. "But really; do you always work late?"

"Five days a week; regardless of whether or not I show up early." He said, yawning. "It makes me sleepy just thinking about how little sleep I get."

Her smile turned into a worried frown. "That really isn't something to declare proudly."

"It means I have inner fortitude."

"Whatever." She said. "What do you do on weekends?"

"Well, I used to sleep in all day. Or as much as I can. But lately, I haven't been doing that, either..." He said. "_Wow_. I have not been taking care of himself."

"I can tell." She said, getting out from behind the counter. She put a hand on his arm as she passed by him. "Congrats. Keep it up, Hamada, and you're sure to die before you're forty."

He clicked his tongue. "...Maybe." He said, nonchalant.

Vanellope paused, and stared at him for a moment. He was afraid of what she was thinking, until she started laughing hysterically. "Unbelievable," She said through fits of giggles. "It isn't so hard to say you've lost your mind!"

He blinked, then clicked his tongue again. "Quite possibly, m'lady."

"Oh, are we lapsing into Shakespearean word?" She said dramatically in a perfect English accent. "Hath thou finally risen above the lay-man language?"

He shook his head, smiling. "Not if I have to do the accent."

Vanellope rolled her eyes. "Right, because it's the accent; it always is." She said, pulling the strap of her bag over her shoulder. "Fare thee well, good sir."

"Yeah, '_fare thee well_', or whatever." He said.

"Tell your aunt I left." She said. She smiled at him one more time before pushed the door open. "See you tomorrow, Hamada!"

"You too, Schweetz!" He called after her.

And then she was gone.

Before he tells his aunt anything, she cuts him off and says she knows Vanellope left; or she heard, more like it, and tells him to go up and help her prepare dinner.

Dinner is quiet; almost awkward, but it seemed to be alright because they it always is. It's been like that for a while, and there was nothing interesting to talk about. Besides, trying to converse was probably going to make the situation worse for them.

Hiro isn't really eating; he's only prodding at a porkchop and scrambling his peas around absentmindedly with his fork. His aunt doesn't mind, he knows because she's noticed before that his mind tends to wander elsewhere.

What she doesn't know, however, is where his mind goes. She may know sometimes how he feels or what he needs or what has him down in the dumps; but she wasn't a mind reader, and he was thankful for that. The last thing he needed was having his privacy invaded. _By his aunt_.

He's thinking about Vanellope. (_Uh, duh._)

He started getting used to her; the sudden bright smiles, the jokes, the niceties, and she seemed to be comfortable with him, too. She lessened her apologies for her ramblings; and she stopped cutting herself off when she thought she was speaking too much; which was one of her apparent idiosyncrasies.

Vanellope really is nice; an above-average kind of nice, but…only most of the time.

She had a sharp tongue and a sort of sass to go with it. He even remembers times of her insolence in the café; with the rude customers, with her peers when they decided to work on a project in the café, her conversations in the phone…

Yes, in the phone, when he once heard her yell; "_You know what's sad?! Your bra size!_"**(8)**. And after hanging up, she puts her phone face-down on the table, and begins stuffing her face with the candy she kept in her pockets.

He also noticed that she eats her feelings; like his aunt.

He didn't mind; because, well, for one, what she said was hilarious. And two, watching her stress-eat was kind of cute; it was like watching a sad kid try to will their sorrows away with as much candy as they can.

Hiro finally takes a portion of his viand and shoves it in his mouth. His food had gone cold, but he didn't mind it. He wasn't paying attention to what he's doing, or whatever is happening.

*"I think…I think I like her." Hiro said out of the blue.

"Who?" Asked Cass.

"Vanellope."

His eyes widen._ Did he say that out loud?_

"Yes, you did." Said Cass. She then looked at her nephew and raised an eyebrow. "So, is this the part where I ask if you're insane and that you've only known her for a week; or that I jump and squeal and say that's great?" She asked. "Because, really, I'm torn. She's really cute, and she's good, I can tell, but do you know her enough?"

"Aunt Cass! I meant I wanted us to be _friends_!" He said immediately.* **(*9)**

"You mean you aren't already friends?" She said. "I really thought you were."

"No, we aren't." He said. "Well; at least I don't think so. Are we?"

He only gets a shrug and not another word from his aunt, and they both went back to eating their meals, returning to their original silence.

"You should ask her out." She suddenly said.

Hiro almost choked on his peas. He ceased jabbing at his food, coughing, dropping his fork on his plate with a loud clatter.

"_What?!_" He said.

"What?" She said.

"Did you not hear what I just tried to clarify? No, wait, sorry. You probably just ignored it completely." He said. "I meant '_I liked her_' in a totally general, platonic, _none-of-romantic-interest_ kind of way."

"You mean like how you think she's cute by comparing her to kittens in a _totally general, sisterly, none-of-romantic-interest kind of way_ and you don't make it obvious enough for everybody?" She asked.

"Okay, one, it's _platonic_. And two, _yes_, exactly." He said.

"Really?" She asked.

He nodded. "Really."

"Are you sure?" She said.

"_Why_ is this such a big deal?" He whined.

"_Because_ it sure doesn't seem like it." She shot back, mimicking his whiny tone.

"Never mind." Hiro groaned, leaning back on his chair. "Well, I guess that's it, then; the fate of my nonexistent love life rests on the shoulders of my romance-obsessed aunt who is _undeniably_ a single, hopeless romantic."

"Hey, now." Said Cass. "Don't say that."

"That you're a single, hopeless romantic?"

"No, that your love life is nonexistent!" She scolded. "And I'm not obsessed with romance; I'm only obsessed with that one, supposedly '_nonexistent love life'_."

"You just admitted that _you_ don't have a love life." He said. "But whoa, wait—what? Rewind—is my life your soap opera or something?"**(10)**

"Not your life; your _social_ life." Said Cass.

He groans. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Oh, it was obvious?"

"So you _were_!"

"Well…dinnertime has never been this interesting in months." She said. "My nephew likes my apprentice. That's more interesting than what I actually ask for."

"Aunt Cass, she's not your apprentice. And we're not talking about this."

"You have a crush on someone!" Cass insisted. "We're talking about this."

"Aunt Cass, I don't have a crush on anyone." He said. "And obviously, I'm not going to convince that out of you anytime soon, so I'll just let it be."

"Good. It means you're learning." She said. "So...about asking her out..."

"This again?"

"We don't even know what will happen!" Said Cass. "It's worth a try. She's nice enough, and you're...likable enough, too. We don't know if she'll say yes, or..."

"No." He said. "Not doing it. It'll progress your entertainment."

"Come on! It could be like...a social experiment. Or your version of Schrodinger's cat." She said encouragingly. "But instead, you know, the cat is-"

"The potential romantic relationship, I get it." Hiro said, finishing her sentence. He kept silent, thinking it over for a moment. "That's...that's brilliant."**(11)**

"Isn't it?!"

"...But I'm still not doing it."

Cass frowns at her nephew, and he only looks back down at his unfinished dinner. He starts poking around at his food again, while the ranting of his aunt only slips his mind.

* * *

><p>He's doing it.<p>

But he feels like he's going to be sick with all the looks Aunt Cass is shooting his way.

The cafe's closed and it's six PM; but Vanellope decided to still hang back just for an excuse not to go home early because she left too much of her unfinished work littered in her lounge. (_So she said_)

She's seated across him at an empty table close to the windows, and she's chewing away as a caramel toffee. She offered him some, but he declined and said he didn't like caramel.

(_Lies_)

Now he's chewing on black licorice that she insisted he take because 1) _She didn't like black licorice but had them anyway_ and 2) _She felt like a jerk for not giving him candy_. (_So she said_)

She's leaning against the glass, and she's just staring, though he isn't quite sure what she's looking at.

He was never good at being social, so initiating the conversation himself was quite a challenge for him, the most socially awkward person he knew.

"So; how long have you been here?" He suddenly asked.

"Hm?" She asked, looking at him. "San Fransokyo, or the country in general?"

"...San Fransokyo."

"Hm," she hums. "Long enough."

He doesn't bother asking how long 'long enough' was, because it almost seemed like she was forcing her answers short to avoid being chatty. He's a bit nervous now; because she looks and seems disinterested with her bored expression and cut-short answers.

"Long enough to know your way around?" He asked.

She was silent for a moment. "No, not really. I guess I haven't actually settled."

That was really all he needed to know.

Should he go for it and ask her now? No, wait, too sudden. And too creepy.

Wait; what was he _doing_? He wasn't actually going to ask her out, was he?

He obviously didn't have some weird, teenage crush on her; or any other sort of romantic attraction (_though a really irritating voice in his head begs to differ_), so why was he even thinking about it?_  
><em>

Why is he overthinking this now?

No; why was he getting nervous now?

Oh, god, _why now_?

In the middle of his worrying, he suddenly feels something warm and soft moving against his leg and soft, faint purring. It doesn't alarm him; it was just Mochi.

It does, however, catch Vanellope's attention.

"What...is _that_?" Asked Vanellope.

"What?" He asked, continuing to chew on his licorice.

"I hear...purring."

Hiro looks down, and decides to pick up the oddly affectionate ball of fluff in his arms. "It's just Mochi." He said. "He's our cat."

"You...you have a cat?"

"Uh...yes." He said. "Have you not seen him before?"

"I've come here for, like, what? A week and a few days already, working four of those days, and I swear; I have _never_ seen that cat before." She said. "A pet looks fun, though."

"Never had one?"

She shook her head. "Nah," She said, reaching her arm forward to pet Mochi, who, strangely, was behaving well on Hiro's lap. "My mum's got an allergy; a fur thing, and it's dreary when it touches her. And dad has a thing about animals."

He keeps silent, because he doesn't know how to respond to that, and only smiles as Vanellope continues to pet the overfed feline. "Hullo, Mochi," she gently muttered. "I'm Nellie."

Mochi doesn't scratch, like Hiro thought he would. Instead, he rubs his head against her hand, and she smiles in amusement at the cat's warm acceptance.

_Oh_, he though. _So it wasn't him, it was Vanellope that Mochi was acting like this._

"He likes you." Said Hiro. "He doesn't even like me."

"That's flattering." She said as she retracted her arm. "Nice to know an overfed house pet has a crush on me."

Vanellope looked interested now; and she was smiling, which sort of had him relieved.

He doesn't remember talking to her being this hard.

"Okay, completely unrelated, out of the blue moment here." He said as he stopped chewing the black licorice that he was halfway done with.

She looks up at him.

"We should...hang out."

She raised an eyebrow. "What."

"I...want to hang out with you."

Vanellope was suddenly silent, and she continued chewing, chewing, _chewing..._

The silence was killing him.

"Hamada, level with me?" She suddenly said.

Now it was his turn to raise an eyebrow.

"...Are you asking me out?"

"No; not that!" He said immediately. "I was just...I was just saying. You're really cool, and I just...kind of wanted to do something with you sometime. You know, together and stuff."

"You want _me_ to hang out with..._you_?" She asked.

"If it isn't any trouble. I kind of want to think we are already; sort of." He said. "With, you know, you being here in the cafe a lot...But, yeah, you're sort of the new kid in town and I've lived her forever, so there are reasons...for us to hang out...and stuff."

She kept quiet again, chewing on her candy, and Hiro started to doubt if it was even toffee.

"Sure."

"...Really?"

"Yeah." She said. "This is cool. You're cool, too. Sure, I'll hang out with you. When?"

He shrugged. "Thursday afternoon."

"Done." She said, and she held her hand out. "Give me your phone."

Hiro gave her a questioning look, but complied anyway. He handed her his phone, and she took it, then paused for a moment to examine it.

"What?" said Hiro.

"What did you do; murder a robot to get this?" She said. "Your phone looks like it's wearing a phone case version of Iron Man's suit-like an armor baby or something."

"_Armor baby._" He said. "I did not just hear you say '_armor baby_'."

"You just did, cupcake." She said, turning his phone on. She held it to him with the screen facing outward. "Passcode. Can't open."

He took it from her, and punched the 9-digit code on the keypad.

_201411989_ **(12)**

He watched the screen change, and he handed it back to her.

"Thanks." She said. She starts to tap at the screen with her thumbs, and he hears the loud, fast clicks of the keypad because he left the ringer on.

A loud, happy, upbeat song blared from the pocket of her jeans. "I should really change my ringtone." She said, getting her phone out. "It's the theme song of an arcade game I used to like, then they made Xbox versions of it.**(13)** Here's your phone back."

"Thanks," he said, taking his phone from her. He glanced at her phone. "What did _you_ do, rob a six-year-old?"**(14)**

She looked at her phone. "It really is sparkly, isn't it?"

He nodded. "Yeah.

Vanellope smacked her lips. Hiro clicked his tongue.

_Well. This is awkward._

"So, erm, okay," She said, getting up from her seat as she took the teal drawstring she brought today instead of her usual blue bag. She leaned forward to pet Mochi. "Nice to meet you, Mochi. Text the deets, Hamada. See you on Thursday."

He nodded. "You too, Schweetz."

She made a beeline for the door, doing a lazy, two-finger salute, and pushed the door open.

Just like that; she was gone.

It takes him a moment to realize what he had just done, and he leans back on his chair, letting out a breath he hadn't known he was holding.

Did he actually just do that?

Something moves on his lap, making him yelp, and he remembers that Mochi was there, even when he had to fish his phone out of his pocket. He also remember his partially-eaten licorice, which Mochi was already nibbling on.

"Did you do it?" Asked Aunt Cass.

"Unless you count it." He answered. "But I don't think so."

* * *

><p><strong>(1) This is reference to an episode of the TV show <em>Raising Hope<em>**

**(2) She's listening to _Immortals_ by _Fall Out Boy_, one of the songs on _Big Hero 6_**

**(3) Hiro also listens to music this loud when he walks to work**

**(4) Reference to Annie, the modern movie adaptation**

**(5) Reference to the book _Fangirl_ by _Rainbow Rowell_, about one of the characters in _Gemma T. Leslie's books_, _Agatha Wellbelove_**

**(6) Our favorite song from _Wicked_; after _Defying Gravity_.**

**(7) He means _Gogo Tomago_**

**(8) A line from the _Jaltoid_ animation '_Girl Gamers_' on _YouTube_**

**(9) This scene is a reference of a scene from the _Scott Pilgrim VS The World_ books by _Bryan Lee O'Malley_**

**_"I think I like her."_  
><strong>

**_"Who?"_**

**_"Kim. P."_**

**_"What?! Scott, you barely know her!"_**

**_"I meant I wanted her in out band."_**

**(10) Reference to _Gravity Falls_; _"Soos' life is my soap opera."_-Soos' Abuelita, from _Soos and the Real Girl_**

**(11) Reference from _The Big Bang Theory Season 1 Episode 17_; _The Tangerine Factor_**

**(12) _20-1-4-1-19-8-9_ in the alphabet spells _T-A-D-A-S-H-I_ (Yeah, we're evil; we all have our calling)**

**(13) _Sugar Rush_ the game**

**(14) This line, along with the previous line similar to it, are both references to a scene from _So Undercover_, a movie where _Miley Cyrus_ starred in (_you know, before she went the same way Justin Bieber did_)**

**Aw, do Hiro got a crush? (_No, not really. Do you guys think so?_)**

**This chapter had less of his focus on the relapses and more on Vanellope; this is a sort of subliminal message that Vanellope's presence really has changed something in his environment, and that it wasn't a bad kind of change; more like he was drawn to it, thus the desire to know her more.**

**And his awkwardness and hard time to talk to her is a result of that desire, because it is close enough to be thought of as a crush.**

**So, was it too fast? Did everything escalate too quickly?**

**Because, really, there isn't any legitimate romance yet. The reason why everything is so fast is because they don't get together until a New Year's chapter in the far future.**

**Some of our friends say it's too much of a cliched, fluffy, lighthearted rom-com where everything is fine; which is good, because that's exactly what we're aiming for.**

**We're giving fluff; not drama like misunderstandings and getting cheated on and screaming and throwing a vase at the male of the relationship.**

**If you want heavy drama; this isn't the fanfiction for you.**

**And to that one guest reviewer: We hope we showed enough sass for Vanellope!**

**Also, give some suggestions if you'd like, some constructive comments would be nice, too.**

**What do you want to happen on Thursday (_the next chapter_)?**

**More subliminal codes that give you feels? Sure!**

**But before we close, we would like to propose a vote: _"__Hiro gets a relapse in the middle of everything."_**

**Do you want this to happen? No? Say down below!**

**Till the next time, It's Buttermilk and Cookie Butter!**


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